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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754391">when ships crash (do they sink?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmalauren/pseuds/emmalauren'>emmalauren</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Honesty, but high school, but like painful honesty, but not a lot, but still, less sass than i wanted, percabeth are just flirty friends, so it's olympics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:41:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmalauren/pseuds/emmalauren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Swimming is the first thing Percy Jackson is good at. And he's really, really good at it. Olympic level good, in fact. </p><p>Track and field isn't the first thing Annabeth is good at. It doesn't even come in the first 50 things she's good at. But like so many of the other things, she's really, really good at it. </p><p>Percy and Annabeth meet at Goode High School, both racing for that Olympic dream. Will they both make it to the podium, or fall face down in the dirt?</p><p>or </p><p>sexual tension between two really athletic teenagers</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Paul Blofis/Sally Jackson, Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. (only you can) ease my mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i started writing this a year ago</p><p>then stopped</p><p>then kept going</p><p>and now am a little out of steam</p><p>so instead of this being a really really long one-shot, this is probably going to be two or three chapters long. </p><p>i'm not sure yet, because virtuemoir hasn't made an appearance yet, and they're going to be kind of instrumental. </p><p>BUT WE'RE NOT THERE SO LIVE IN THE MOMENT FOR NOW!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Swimming was the first thing Percy Jackson was good at. </p><p>It wasn’t intentional on Sally Jackson’s part - although Percy’s father had once upon a time been an Olympic hopeful for the very same sport, he had injured himself badly on a skiing trip, and had never been able to return to the pool at the same competitive level. Sally worked two jobs when Percy was a toddler, leaving Percy in the care of their friendly neighbor in the morning and late at night, but in the afternoon, it was their time.</p><p>Or at least, it was supposed to be. Sally was still working on a graduate degree, and Percy got distracted easily, never quite content to sit on the floor and play with his toys or watch something mindless playing on TV. And so, in an almost desperate attempt to tire him out so he would sleep through the afternoons when she was meant to be studying, when Percy was only a year and a half old, Sally bundled him up and brought him to the local YMCA for swim classes. </p><p>Percy didn’t tire, but he took to the water like a fish, easily passing through levels as he got older, surpassing many of the older kids with no effort. The coach, a man by the name of Brunner, begged Sally to sign Percy up for the competitive swim team the minute he hit his sixth birthday, even offering to front the costs. Normally, Sally Jackson wouldn’t accept that kind of charity. But Percy struggled with almost everything else - ADHD made it hard for him to sit still, and his dyslexia made school even harder. Swimming was the only thing where all he needed was his body, and he was happy doing it. </p><p>So, Sally signed him up. And by ten years old, when Percy was barely 4 and a half feet tall, he was racing 27 second 50 freestyles and 46 second 50 butterflies. He was good, in every sense of the word. And he only got better from there.</p><p> </p><p>Track was not the first thing Annabeth Chase was good at. It didn’t even place in the first 50 things Annabeth Chase was good at. It wasn’t until a sunny day at the beginning of sixth grade, sitting on the soccer field for study hall - which was entirely pointless, if you asked Annabeth - watching Luke Castellan, a tall, dreamy, eighth grader toss a football back and forth with one of his friends, Ethan Nakumura, that Annabeth discovered that she was really, really good at track. </p><p>At the Olympics, only seven years later, Annabeth would blame it all on Connor Stoll, who had stolen her history textbook - she had been running to catch him, get the textbook back. She was a self-admitted nerd, more dedicated to school than her social life - posessiveness over textbooks made sense. In reality, she’d been running from something, like she always was. Away from the cold chill of fall beginning to settle in the air, away from her mother’s disappointment echoing down the phone line, away from her step-mom and her father’s pain, and her brothers. She was running faster than she ever had, pouncing on Connor, bowling him over onto the grass before reaching for her textbook, making sure the pages were unruffled. When she’d finally looked up from the book, she had found Coach D, the track coach at their school, staring down at her in a mixture of disbelief and amazement. He had stuttered through a few half-sentences of beratement, before taking her aside to ask her if she’d ever run before. </p><p>She’d said no. She didn’t think he’d be interested in the sprinting through the forest, or the climbing trees just for the scraped knees, hoping desperately that her step-mother would let her leave the light on at night and her father would kiss her on the forehead when she crawled into bed without a look of resentment that tingled long after he was gone. Coach D had signed her up for the track team right away. </p><p> </p><p>Percy transferred to Goode when he was in tenth grade. It was his first school that felt stable - others were constantly complaining about his constant absences for competitions, and that his behavior due to his ADHD was unacceptable. He had grinned and borne it for a long time, pushing through to please his mother and get to the pool at the end of the day (and beginning, if he was being honest). </p><p>It was also his first school since his mother had divorced his step-father, Gabe Ugliano. It had been an awful relationship, one that often drove him to the pool, staying long after training hours were supposed to be over, even going so far as to do his homework on the bleachers so he wouldn’t have to go home before leaving again for swim practice. </p><p>When Brunner had finally suggested the transfer to Goode, with it’s Olympic size pool and top-notch academics (especially for kids with learning disabilities), it was like a sigh of relief had settled over the Jackson household. The Olympic dream, the dream of gold over the mantle, finally felt tangible. </p><p> </p><p>Annabeth had started at Goode when she was in ninth grade - Coach D was moving there, and Goode had top-notch sport facilities. They were also much more flexible with travelling for sports - Rachel Dare, Piper McLean, and Reyna Ramirez Arellano, her future team mates, had already been attending Goode for over a year. It was a fresh start - one that had re-sparked her love for running, and finally numbed the pain over Luke’s fake attraction and rejection. </p><p>It had been a rough few years in middle school, especially as her track career had grown exponentially - from a few races in fall, to nationals in spring, and then to the USATF championships in summer. She had been introduced to three other girls - Rachel, Piper, and Reyna, who were also Olympic hopefuls. It was the first time she had heard it linked to her name out loud, and not just in her dreams. It was suffocating and painfully refreshing at the same time. </p><p>So, she transferred to Goode. And it was there, a year later, sitting on the bleachers of the pool, waiting for her godfather to be finished with coaching swim practice so they could go to dinner, that she met Percy Jackson. </p><p>Percy is lean and tall in tenth grade, but so is Annabeth - he’s only two inches taller, a fact that he lords over her the instant he realizes it bothers her. They meet, however, when he’s fresh out of the pool, and in that moment, pinned by her gray gaze, he had never felt so small. </p><p>He stays after practice - after Jason, Beckendorf, and Frank have left the pool - to work on his starts; he has impeccable from, according to his teammates and coach, but Percy is hard on himself, harder than anyone should be, and he feels like something is off. He stays so late, in fact, that when he finally glances up at the clock, he finds it’s 6:15 - he’s due home in 15 minutes for dinner before a late-night study session at the library in preperation for a biology test the next day. </p><p>“Shit.” He slaps the water with a hand, pulling his cap off his head in one fluid motion. </p><p>“Eloquent.” The voice is unexpected, and definitively feminine, a shock to Percy’s system - so much so he loses his grip on the wall, sliding under the water for a moment before surfacing, looking around to find the source of the voice. The source, it seems, is tall and blonde, and reading from a book thicker than her head. She’s also lying on the bleachers, seeming very bored, glancing over at him in what seems like half amusement, half critical analysis. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was still here.” Percy hauls himself out of the pool, glad that he had worn a longer Speedo today, one that reaches his mid-thigh, instead of the usual uniform. He’s not body-conscious - eight trainings a week and additional hours in the gym make him toned, muscles rippling across his back and chest, but there’s something about this girl that suddenly makes him want to hide. </p><p>“Clearly.” There’s a drawl to her voice that suddenly makes Percy smile, his lips quirking up at the side. He approaches her slowly, like he’s trying to catch a skittish cat. </p><p>“I’m Percy.”</p><p>“I’m aware.” She’s not even looking up, eyes fixed firmly on her book as she turns another page. </p><p>“And you are…” He feels stupid, the size of an ant, standing shell-shocked in front of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And she’s still not even looking at him. </p><p>“Annabeth. You’re entering the water wrong.” She flips another page, still not bothering to look at him</p><p>“Excuse me?” </p><p>“You have good form, but your arms fold slightly when you hit the water. Instead of having clean entry, you wobble, and you can’t go as fast underwater.” Percy feels like a fish gasping for water - he’s entirely confused, and still kind of in awe of the girl sitting in front of him, who is finally closing her book to look at him. It’s clear she’s a runner from the way she holds herself - long legs, toned and lean, back straight, as if her body had never even thought of curving or folding itself in on her.<br/>
“Try it. Focus on the moment of entry, and making sure that your arms stay strong and don’t bend through it.” Annabeth pauses, looking at him as if waiting.<br/>
“You’re not on Punk’d. Seriously. Just do it.” </p><p>He doesn’t know what impulse drives him - it definitely isn’t a conscious decision to turn away from her, but suddenly, he’s back on the block, and strong, fluid kicks take him to the other end of the pool. He surfaces, staring at her in disbelief. “I’ve been trying to figure out what was wrong with the dive all week. You did it in less than three seconds. Spill.” She smiles, huffing a short breath out in amusement. </p><p>“I have my secrets, seaweed brain.” She calls over her shoulder. </p><p>“What did you just call me?” Percy’s out of the water, following her again, jumping on one foot as if to shake the water out of his ear. </p><p>“Your eyes. They’re the same color as seaweed. It’s an old myth, that sailors would stuff their ears with seaweed. It poisoned their bloodstream, and turned their eyes green, but it meant that they could resist the call of the mermaids underwater. So, seaweed brain. Ascophyllus nodosum, if you’d like it in another language.” She’s in front of him now, sweet perfume filling the air, gray eyes sparking with amusement. </p><p>“You have literally rendered me speechless, wise girl.” Percy smirks down at her. </p><p>“Wise girl? That’s even worse than seaweed brain.” </p><p>“What else to call the smartest person I’ve ever met?”</p><p>“Cool your jets, Casanova, we met five minutes ago.” Annabeth scoffs, picking up her duffle bag and shouldering it. </p><p>“I’m never wrong. Besides, somehow, I feel like we’ll be friends. Especially if we end up at the Olympics together.” Percy wiggles his eyebrows, turning away to pick up his cap and goggles. </p><p>“Okay, how do you know I’m training for the Olympics?” Annabeth calls after him as he walks towards the changing room. </p><p>“Brunner’s always talking about a beautiful blonde track-star goddaughter named Annie. Figured Annabeth wasn’t too far off, and besides, it only takes one look at you to know that you, my dear wise girl, are gorgeous.” </p><p> </p><p>Percy’s right - it’s a subtle shift, barely noticeable, but by the next day, they’re not just talking in history class - they’re full-on arguing, to the great amusement of their classmates. They find each other in the hallways like magnets drawn to one another. Percy introduces Annabeth to the rest of his relay team - Jason, who is just taller than Percy, blonde and blue-eyed, Beckendorf, who dwarfs the both of them and is the sweetest person Annabeth has ever met, and Frank, who is still growing into his frame, but wears the extra inches like a puppy who trips over its own ears. Annabeth introduces him to her team in turn - Piper, who is intense and mellow all in the same breath, Rachel, who has enough energy to flirt with Percy, run a 400 meter, and chat with him about his favorite Van Gogh painting after, and Reyna, who is all quiet strength and amber eyes. By the end of the week, they’re all squished around the same lunch table, talking over one another and living in perfect harmony, the future of America’s athletic success trying their best to make it through the school day. </p><p> </p><p>Annabeth and Percy are similar in many respects - they both have the same attitude when it comes to their sports, the same perfectionist perspective that drives them to stay at the pool or track just a little bit longer to tweak what many others would have considered perfect. They have similar dreams - Percy may not have a dream board, but if he did, it would look just like Annabeth’s, pictures of Tokyo plastered over it, with little gold medals pasted and peeling up at the edges as a border. It wouldn’t have pictures of track, like hers, aerial views of the circular stretch she makes her escape upon, but it would have pictures of the pool, long and unyielding in its glass-like surface, the Olympic rings warped on the bottom of the seemingly endless expanse of water. </p><p>But more than their similarities, they are vastly different. Annabeth is all quiet observation and analytical choices, ever the chess master. Percy is loud, impulsive, and he rarely pays attention or bothers to interpret what is going on past the end of his nose. If Annabeth is the head, Percy is the heart - and most days, it means an endless flow of teasing and argument, but no one, not even Brunner, who has known the both of them their entire lives, can deny that they push one another to be better. Annabeth starts showing up sometime during Percy’s trainings, and he shows off. His showing-off leads to one of his fastest splits ever. Percy comes to her meets, more for Jason’s sake than his, but he yells his head off for her anyway, and she finishes her 100 meter sweaty and panting, but smiling, for the first time in a long time. </p><p>By the end of the month, they’re studying together every day after long trainings, and by the end of the year, they’re inseperable. Percy knows Annabeth’s quirks like the back of his hand, and Annabeth knows how Percy moves like she knows how to breathe. They spend every spare moment they’re not at school, or training, or studying, at the Jackson house, and most nights when Paul and Sally come home, it’s hard to tell where Annabeth ends and Percy begins, so tangled up in one another on the couch. They deny vehemently that it’s in any way romantic, that it’s simply finding somebody who understands what it means to be an Olympic hopeful in high school in a sport that is incredibly isolating even when it’s technically a team sport. </p><p>In reality, even they’re not really sure what happened - just that somehow, suddenly, it feels impossible to imagine life without the other person. It’s divine intervention, it feels like, with the Olympics only two years away and the training ramping up. To have somebody who understands, who knows not be angry when training and competitions takes them away. They bond over the simplest things, like Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir and how if they win the Olympics, they want to be that eloquent, so humble and beautiful and human. They hold hands, and Percy hugs Annabeth and gives her flowers when she wins and somehow it feels normal. To all their friends, they’re just Percy and Annabeth, as they should be. It’s healthy, healthier than Percy and Rachel’s brief relationship, and definitely healthier than the constant self-isolation they subjected themselves to before they ever met in the dusk of the Goode pool. </p><p>There’s just one thing - Percy’s defensive, and Annabeth’s proud. Neither of them have broached the subject of their equally complex pasts - if Annabeth sees the scar on Percy’s back, that sticks out, rough and jagged, or he notices how she drags her feet when he walks her home after a study session at the library, neither of them mention it. They’re living the perfect fantasy, best friends with no other complicated feelings, while simultaneously boxing up their pasts and shoving them in hallway closets, hoping that the door won’t give way, and let reality spill on the floor in front of their faces. </p><p> </p><p>It lasts a whole year. They’re in eleventh grade when the dam finally breaks, Christmas of 2018 sprinkling all around them like a nauseating snow globe. Annabeth hates Christmas - her mother calls twice a year, once on Annabeth’s birthday, once on Christmas, and it always spoils everything like a sour lemon has sucked all facade of happiness out of their living room. Percy’s better - his mother is pregnant with a little sister, but the scar on his back always aches more in winter. They’re irritable, and trying their best to pretend that they’re not. </p><p>It unfolds the way most things must - quickly, but not without pain, like ripping a Band-Aid off. Percy’s in Montauk for one night, despite the freezing waves. It’s a Christmas tradition of his - just like forgetting his charger on the kitchen counter. His phone dies, and his mom’s phone uses a different cable. He doesn’t really think about it. Annabeth, however, does. Her mom calls earlier than expected, catching Annabeth at the kitchen table, half-way through her history paper on how family dynamics and the roles of women have shifted over the past century. It’s almost ironic, she thinks, as she picks up the phone. When Percy doesn’t answer the thirty texts and fourteen missed calls afterward, she knows it’s not irony - it’s divine intervention once again, except suddenly the scales have finally balanced. The sweet, saccharine act they’ve been living the past year? It’s crumbled in a spectacularly painful moment. </p><p>Percy realizes something is wrong the instant he gets back to the apartment and plugs in his phone. He tries calling Annabeth, but she won’t pick up. He calls Piper after that, but she says she hasn’t heard from Annabeth. It’s a worry that claws at the inside of his throat, threatening to spill out like bile, bitter worry filling his stomach. It takes half an hour before he tells his mother that he needs to go check up on Annabeth, and vibrates every second he’s trapped on the subway, the worry that had settled momentarily in his stomach back and violent in its control over his limbs. He practically sprints from the subway station to her apartment, waiting by the door until she opens it. She’s wearing one of his sweatshirts she’s somehow stolen over the past year, and while the height difference between them has grown - he’s five inches taller, but she’s still tall - she’s never looked so small. There’s tear stains on her cheeks, and she looks exhausted. He’s tempted to ask if she’s slept over the past few days, but he knows her - the pride that chases her down the track would shut the door in his face before he ever finished the sentence. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Annabeth. My phone died, and I didn’t have a charger, and I just saw your calls, and texts, and honestly, I’m so sorry, is everything okay?” He’s vibrating again, just with the effort to not get closer, to wrap her up in a hug and hold her until she doesn’t need to cry anymore. </p><p>“Yeah, Percy. Everything’s fine. I just need some space, okay?” It would be easy for a stranger to tell something’s off, but Percy’s her best friend, and he knows that something is fundamentally different, like someone had gotten into Annabeth’s brain and rewired everything. She’s not even looking at him, instead fixed on a point just beyond his left shoulder. </p><p>“Bullshit, Annabeth.” She falters for a second, glancing at him before looking behind her, at the scenes of what should be a happy Christmas spilling into the hallway. </p><p>“I can’t do this right now. We can talk later.”</p><p>“I am not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” He half-expects her to shut the door, but she just sighs, defeated, before pulling the sleeves of her (his) sweatshirt further down and coming to sit on the steps beside him. He sinks down next to her, getting as close as possible as to share some of his body heat without suffocating her with his presence. </p><p>“My mom called.” Annabeth admits, still not looking at Percy. </p><p>“I thought you guys didn’t talk anymore.” Percy’s watching Annabeth’s hands, as they tremble, despite her efforts to tuck them between her knees to make them stop. </p><p>“I didn’t want to tell you about all of it. I don’t want to be defined by my mother, or our relationship.” Percy softens instantly, biting his lip so hard he draws blood in an effort to stop himself from reaching out and giving her a hug. </p><p>“Annabeth, you know I would never judge you, right? You’re Annabeth. You’re the smartest person I know, and you have a secret weakness for chocolate, you hate spiders, you’ve read Tale of Two Cities a billion times even though you hate the ending, you can quote Jane Austen and War and Peace, which blows my freaking mind, and nobody else could ever change my opinion about you. You’re my best friend,” he urges, pleading with her silently to accept it. “Please, whatever’s going on, just tell me. I’ll be there for you. I want to be here for you.” She sniffles, but begins to speak. </p><p>“My mom left when I was really young. She had all these big career goals, and my dad was one of the only people she’d ever met that matched her on an intellectual level. She wasn’t ready for kids, but I think, somewhere, deep inside of her, she wanted a normal life, with a picket fence and a family, you know?” </p><p>She pauses for a moment, looking wistful and entirely gorgeous, hair loose around her shoulders, snowflakes scattered through the curls. Percy can’t breathe for a moment. </p><p>“But she had me, and then she grew to resent me, and what I meant - that she’d slowed down, that she’d turned away from her ultimate goal. So she left, and then my dad grew to resent me too. He’d never say it, and I know, he loves me, but I’m a constant reminder of everything my mom did to him, and that she left.” </p><p>Annabeth’s voice is breaking now, catching in her throat, and Percy’s sure he’s going to break now, every single muscle in his body straining to hold her, to comfort her. </p><p>“I ran away when I was seven, and when I came back, everything was different. We all try a little bit harder, but my parents still see me as a flight risk. As a liability. My mom called last night, and - I inherit a lot of my traits from her. She’s not nice, Percy, she doesn’t really care about anybody else. Competition, she understands. I thought we would finally be able to bond over track, but it’s just turned into this thing she wants to control. She told me she knew I could do better, that I was letting not only her down, but my team and my country, and that she doesn’t know why my coach is wasting so much time on me if I wasn’t going to put effort in.” </p><p>New York is the city that never sleeps, but the entire world goes silent for a minute, Percy’s ears ringing with the revelation. He clenches and unclenches his fists for a moment, staring ahead before making up his mind. “You know that’s not true, right? You’ve put so much effort in, and your times are amazing. You should be so proud of yourself. Your mom doesn’t know you, so she shouldn’t get to define you.” He swallows hard, determined not to look at Annabeth in fear of talking himself out of what he’s going to do next. </p><p>“The scar? On my back? My mom was married before she met Paul, and after my dad left. To this guy named Gabe. He was drunk, and an asshole, and he did things to my mom that I don’t want to talk about. One night after practice, he was drunk and out of his mind angry. He broke a tequila bottle over my back, and then broke my clavicle in two places when I tried to fight him. My mom filed divorce papers three days later, and placed a restraining order. I’m pretty sure he’s in jail now.” </p><p>Percy can feel Annabeth staring at him, shifting at his side, but he’s almost done with his story - and yet, the hardest part is still to come, and he knows if he looks at her now, he’ll never go through with it. </p><p>“Gabe was really abusive, mentally. He said things to me that I will never forget - hell, when I was twelve, I walked myself right up to the roof edge of my school at the time, and was trying to figure out if it was high enough to kill myself if I jumped. I’m not trying to say that to belittle you, or say that this is anything like what you’re going through, because I know that it’s not. What I’m trying to say is that I know what it’s like to have someone say that you’re not good enough, and that you’re not worth it. But I know that you are. You are so much more than worth it, Annabeth. Olympics or not, high school valedictorian or not, you are worth the world, Annabeth Chase, and don’t let anyone - not your mom, not stupid girls, not me when I’m joking around - tell you otherwise. Do you hear me?” </p><p>Annabeth is crying, and Percy is trying his best not to follow suit. It’s not really working. </p><p>“And I’m sorry, for not picking up when you needed me. From now on, I promise to carry a phone charger, and be there for you when you need me to be. Unconditionally.” Annabeth looks like she’s about to say something, but instead, she just holds out her pinky. Percy wraps his around hers, then pulls her into his side, feeling the warmth spread out from his stomach, tingling, all the way to the tips of his toes. </p><p>“I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad because she can make me feel so small, and I needed somebody to make me feel okay again. I know I’m better than that, but she’s my mom, you know? I’ll always care what she thinks about me.” Percy rubs soothing circles onto Annabeth’s back. </p><p>“I know, wise girl. I know.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. (you'll never know) if you'll be good enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Something shifts in their relationship, Percy and Annabeth start Olympic training, and we find out who makes the team!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok i'd like to personally apologize for this update taking so long (this happens with my stories, but luckily this one only has two or three more parts, so shouldn't be that much longer (who knows though)) and i really hope you enjoy!</p><p>i'm going through a lightning thief musical phase which is what inspired me to finally post this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s no identifiable shift, no one moment they can point their fingers at accusingly. While all of Percy’s competitions are in the winter - in fact, it’s a miracle he’s home that Christmas at all - Annabeth’s are in spring. Percy’s not exactly willing to skip their history final to sit on a plane for eight hours to cheer her on across the country, but he drives all the way up to Boston and is the loudest voice in the stands as Annabeth breaks across the finish line, Piper, Rachel, and Reyna crowding her triumphantly, screaming in celebration. It’s not a big deal, they insist, but somehow, it’s everything. </p><p>They qualify for the Olympic qualifiers a year later, the winter of their senior year, and after the buzz of qualifications, and press conferences, and Christmas parties in February, and countless conversations on why qualifying for qualifiers is necessary, Sally insists on throwing them a joint celebration. She chooses an Irish bar down the block from the Jackson’s apartment to the great mystification of everyone - the bar has terrible food, and Brunner and Coach D wouldn’t let Annabeth and Percy drink any alcohol even if they were past the legal age; plus, Sally hasn’t had a drop of liquor since she divorced Gabe. It remains a mystery until Annabeth walks into the bar, ten minutes before the party’s due to start. She freezes in the doorway, startled into stillness, staring at the dim, cramped room in front of her. </p><p> </p><p>It’s like a scene from a distant memory, a memory she knows she’s described to Sally only once, a memory of her and her father before things got bad, before she ran away, sitting in a gaudy green-and-white booth on a trip to New York, laughing and drinking milkshakes. It was this bar, she knows instinctively, somewhere right behind her sternum, so painful that she visibly flinches when Percy places a hand on her back, warm through the thin blue fabric of her dress, having come up behind her sometime when she was stuck in her head. </p><p>“Annabeth? Are you okay? What’s going on?” His voice is distant, muffled in her ears, and suddenly, Annabeth’s heart is slamming against her ribcage, a wild animal trying to escape it’s bondage, her breath coming up short. Her vision swims, and everything is unfocused for a second, until she feels Percy, holding her in his arms - one hand cradling the back of her hand, the other resting over Annabeth’s against his chest, over his heart. She’s distantly aware of others in the bar talking and laughing, but it’s all drowned out by his voice, low and calm and repetitive. “You’re going to be okay. You’re alright, you’re safe, you’re fine. You’re going to be okay.” </p><p>No one seems to be focused on them, so Annabeth takes in a few deep breaths. The first burns her lungs as if she’s surfaced from underwater after holding her breath, next burning slightly less, and the next barely burning at all. She stays, with her head bent against Percy’s chest, for another long moment, cocooned in his arms, his back shielding her from the rest of the bar as he continues to murmur reassurances into her hair. Eventually, Annabeth taps Percy’s arm twice, pulling back slightly. </p><p>“Are you okay? We can leave.” He’s whispering, but Annabeth can tell he’s nervous - she’s been around him for a few of his panic attacks, but she’s only had one or two before, and never around him. It’s new territory for the both of them, and it’s honestly adorable how he’s taking it all in stride as best as he can. She latches onto that feeling as best as she can, swallows and breathes and nods, meets his eyes with a confidence she doesn’t quite yet feel. </p><p>“I’m okay. Really, Percy, I promise, I’m fine.” He steps back slightly, rubbing circles into her arms absent-mindedly, scanning her face slowly. It’s clear he doesn’t believe her, and Annabeth huffs out a sigh, smiles a small, cautious smile she doesn’t have to force. “It’s a lot, Percy. All of this. Olympic trials, graduating high school, everything. We’ve grown up a lot, and it just didn’t really hit me until right now.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean we have to stay. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and my mom’s not going to be mad if we leave.” </p><p>“Percy. I don’t care. We’re staying.” </p><p> </p><p>They stay for three glorious hours. They eat cake, smearing frosting across one another at every opportunity, they drink milkshakes with their parents (and Annabeth tries really hard not to cry, even though it’s awkward and stilted with her dad and step-mom, because they’re trying), and Annabeth and Percy take the dance floor in the middle of the bar and scream to their favorite songs with their friends. Taylor Swift - Percy’s favorite - comes up first, and they dance and jump and yell, Annabeth’s hair falling around her shoulders, Percy’s hands loosely weaved in hers, his voice loud in the air. He’s a surprisingly good singer, but he’s mainly drowned out by Jason and Beckendorf, who screech the lyrics in the vague direction of their teammate. </p><p>Piper and Annabeth lose their collective shit as Jason and Percy somehow convince the DJ for the night to give them his microphone, and perform an overly dramatic rendition of some slow pop song overflowing with sexual innuendos, the girls clutching at each other for air as tears of laughter stream down their faces. Annabeth tries not to lose her composure entirely when Percy comes up to her, singing some lyric she distantly recognizes through the haze of happiness that has descended over the room. She lets him take her hand and twirl her, and when she winks at him afterward and he loses track of where he is in the song, she lets herself be truly and completely happy for the first time in a while. </p><p> </p><p>Percy walks Annabeth home - the March air in New York is unusually warm, and while Annabeth has a jacket on, Percy doesn’t, and the cool breeze that blows through his dress shirt is refreshing after hours spent packed with dozens of other people in the bar. They don’t go sit on the steps like they normally do, instead climbing through Annabeth’s window onto the fire escape, where they can sit side by side and stare out at the city. They’re silent for minutes that stretch on comfortably, Percy playing with Annabeth’s hair mindlessly, her head resting against his shoulder. She’s the one who breaks it, trying not to let him hear her voice crack with emotion or allow tears to fall from her eyes. </p><p>“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs. He nods his assent, his hands stilling. “Do you think we deserve this?” She can practically feel him stiffen, the muscles under her head going taught, his hands balling up into fists. </p><p>“Annabeth, what is this about? Did somebody say something? Did your mom call?” She won’t shift to meet his eyes, because she’s scared of what she’ll find there, and scared that makes her a coward. </p><p>“No, nothing like that. It’s just, we’ve qualified for the qualifiers. This isn’t even close to the end of the road, and our parents are throwing us parties and Coach D gave me two days off. He’s never done that. I keep thinking this is a fluke - like I’ll wake up and find out I didn’t qualify, or this was something that seven-year-old runaway me dreamed up hiding in some alleyway hoping something would happen. Even you, us, that feels too good to be true.” Percy huffs at that, shifting so his arms go around Annabeth, pulling her into him so his head rests on top of hers. </p><p>“Feel this? Not a fluke, wise girl. Never has been, never will be. And don’t discredit yourself like that. You have worked your ass off for this, and nobody deserves this more than you. Just because you ran away when you were seven doesn’t mean anything. It means you’ve worked harder, if anything, but it doesn’t define you. Hell, even the Olympics don’t define you, if you don’t want them to. You’re still Annabeth Chase to me, the girl I probably have to thank for getting this far. You’re my best friend, and there’s nobody more worth it than you. You qualified on your own merit. Trust me, okay?” Annabeth’s heart swoops, and suddenly, she’s pulling away from Percy, staring him in the eyes. He looks at her openly, with trust, and another emotion she would call love if forced to put a name to it, even though she knows what they have is much more complex than that. </p><p>“I trust you, Percy, always. But I need you to trust me.” Annabeth is still staring at Percy’s eyes, wide and green, and then he nods, and she moves forward, his jacket falling off her shoulders, and kisses him. </p><p>He’s stiff against her for a second, before reciprocating, lips warm and salty against hers - she’s not sure if that’s from his tears, or hers, or just the fact that Percy always smells like saltwater - and it’s sweet and soft, and then suddenly it’s not, a clash of lips and tongue and teeth and fire, broken only when Annabeth drags her teeth against Percy’s bottom lip and he makes a sound deep in his throat that makes Annabeth tremble. They break apart, foreheads touching, Annabeth’s hands tucked under Percy’s shirt, her heart pounding through her ribcage, his chest heaving similarly. She looks up at him shyly, only to find him staring back, the sea-green of his iris almost hidden behind the black of his pupils. She’s thrown back in time to when they first met when Percy had teased her - ‘You’ve literally rendered me speechless, wise girl,’ and tries really hard not to cry. </p><p>“This is a really bad time.” They say it at the same time, and Percy laughs, moving so his head is tucked into Annabeth’s neck. She cards a hand through his hair, smiling softly at the goosebumps that rise on his neck, before steeling herself to say what she needs to. </p><p>“I really want to be something for you. Something more than your best friend.” She pauses for a second, flushing slightly, before forcing herself to continue. “But I can’t do that right now. I leave for Florida tomorrow for training. I don’t know if I’m going to see you again until July, Percy, and I don’t think it’s fair for either of us to be in a new long-distance relationship. I just - I couldn’t leave for four months without telling you how I feel.” </p><p>“You like me.” Percy’s voice is teasing, but Annabeth can practically feel the vulnerability behind it, fragile within the warmth of his exhale of breath, ghosting along her collarbone. </p><p>“Yeah, seaweed brain. I do.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s four months before they see each other again. Annabeth’s training in Florida and Percy’s in California put them in time zones three hours apart, and even if there was no time difference to consider, every spare moment is focused on training. Annabeth is on the track seven hours a day, and Percy is in the pool for four hours in the morning and four hours at night, with a gym and physio session in between. They’re two sides of the same coin, but even their connection can’t give them more energy than it requires to just send a quick update and goodnight text.</p><p>On the rare days, they have the opportunity to FaceTime, there’s not much to talk about aside from training. They do two joint interviews with some journalist Annabeth geeks over, and Brunner sends Annabeth videos of Percy’s diving to occupy her brain during physio sessions, but there’s nothing else. Annabeth had graduated early anyway, and Percy hands in his last final a month into training after Annabeth goes over it with an eagle eye. They eat, sleep, and breathe the Olympics. </p><p>In reality, the four months are brutal. Annabeth’s feet are bloody every day for the first three weeks, and Percy is so tired at one of the morning practices he flips straight into a wall, earning an exasperated lecture from Brunner and a line of bruises painted in black and blue down his side. Annabeth doesn’t typically have a short temper with her teammates, but halfway through a particularly taxing relay practice in the third month, she snaps at Rachel about the way she’s handing off the baton, and Reyna has to physically haul Annabeth all the way back to the showers so she doesn’t start a fight. Percy is so used to Annabeth being tangled up with him when he sleeps after years of movie nights that he can’t sleep for a month straight, and finally Jason gets in bed with him one night just so they can both get rest. They spend every moment with their teammates, but they both feel alone in every way that counts. </p><p> </p><p>Percy and Annabeth have qualifiers the same week, and Coach D confiscates Annabeth’s phone the first day when he sees her checking it before her 100m, so she has no idea how Percy does until they’re in the airport on their way back to New York. Piper and Rachel had placed in two of their events, while Reyna and Annabeth had both placed in three. They had placed as a team as well, putting them in solid standing for team selections the following day. Rachel had overheard one of the USA coaches calling them a shoo-in as some of the strongest athletes in their field, and a good investment for the team considering how young they all were, but Annabeth’s still jittery. Her mother spent years drilling into her that ‘nothing is guaranteed,’ and ‘if you want something to happen you have to take it into your own hands’. Short from sabotaging the competition or bribing the Olympic Committee, Annabeth really doesn’t see a way for that to happen. </p><p>She calls Percy as soon as they’re in the airport lounge, but he doesn’t answer and the airport’s wifi is too weak for her to check the results online. Piper has no better luck contacting Jason, but she’s calm, flipping through an ancient People Magazine left in the lounge. It drives Annabeth up a wall, and she fidgets so badly in her seat that Reyna banishes her from the couch they’re sharing. Annabeth’s practically wearing circles into the paisley print carpet with all her pacing when her phone rings. It’s sitting on top of a pile of her stuff next to Piper, and even though Annabeth dives, Piper is faster, snatching the phone out of Annabeth’s grasp and holding it to her ear. Annabeth feels just about ready to strangle her teammate for this, lunging at her with complete lack of grace. Piper dodges easily, shooting to her feet as she nods, smiling, and then offers the phone to Annabeth. Annabeth glares as she snatches the phone from her friend, barely catching the unapologetic shrug as she turns away so no one else can see her face and presses the phone to her ear. </p><p>“Percy?” Annabeth’s voice is shaky with uncontrolled emotion, and she’s half-whispering, hyper-aware of nosy teammates at her back and strangers surrounding her, but he yells his answer back, joy permeating his tone. </p><p>“We made it, wise girl!” He whoops as Annabeth’s face splits into a grin, tension she didn’t even know she had been holding seeping out, making her knees go weak. “We all did.” He starts to say something else, but the phone is stolen away - Annabeth hears different voices clamoring all at once; Percy’s low and protesting, Beckendorf and Frank yelling, and Jason teasing before his voice comes into focus, almost unbearably loud in Annabeth’s ear. </p><p>“He’s being humble for once in his life - he came in first for each of his qualifiers and is milliseconds behind two world records. Brunner is furious, but we’ve got the next Phelps on our hands.” There’s more chaos, and Annabeth takes the opportunity to slip into an empty hallway, leaning against the wall and hoping to any gods above her legs don’t give up on her before she tells Percy what she has to say. He’s back on the phone in a second, his voice playful as he teases Jason right back. </p><p>“I’m ten times more handsome than Phelps, Grace, and don’t you dare forget it.” A white-hot lump of some unspeakable emotions has lodged itself in Annabeth’s throat, and her words are shaky as she forces them around it. </p><p>“I miss you,” she whispers, willing herself not to cry - Piper is a bloodhound when it comes to this kind of stuff, and even if she managed to splash water on her face, her friend would know. It’s not the kind of thing Annabeth wants to deal with right now. </p><p>“I miss you too.” It’s still painfully loud on Percy’s end of the call, but still, she can hear him smile. “But, hey, I’m going to see you tomorrow, right? We can do brunch before the team decisions come out. Just the two of us. Catch up on that conversation we had before we left.” He’s nervous, suddenly, and Annabeth’s sure she’s not going to make it through her sentence, but she barges on anyway. </p><p>“My dad wants to take me out for breakfast tomorrow, but I’ll be at your place for the decisions. He really, really wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Annabeth’s voice breaks and she’s sure he hears it, but he’s quiet - Annabeth thinks she’s lost him for a second before she hears the background noise come rushing back.  </p><p>“I think it’ll be good, wise girl. We can talk afterward, sit on the fire escape. Don’t worry about brunch, okay? Your dad has really missed you, and I’ll be a phone call away if you need me. I promise.” There’s another moment of silence and Annabeth’s eyes screw shut with the effort of not breaking down in the hallway of some shitty airport lounge. “Listen, I have to go. You’re okay?” Percy sounds worried, and Annabeth blinks tears off her eyelashes and tries really hard to smile in a way that would convince him if he were here beside her. </p><p>“Yeah, seaweed brain. I’m fine.” </p><p> </p><p>Since the first day they’d met, Annabeth had always commanded Percy’s attention, as if each of her atoms had been magnets, constantly pulling him towards her. It’s Percy’s sixth sense - to always know when Annabeth walks into a room without ever looking - proved by Jason, who had spent an entire weekend testing this, which would have ended with Percy dead in a sewer if not for Annabeth finally putting her foot down. </p><p>It’s how he knows something is very, very wrong when Annabeth doesn’t show up, 45 minutes into the US Olympic Team announcement viewing at the Jackson apartment. Percy had brushed off her not texting him back on account to jitters over her breakfast with her dad, and had instead forced himself to focus on wrapping her present - he had printed out and framed his senior year English final, a poem about Annabeth that he had submitted from South Korea (thank you very much, Mr. Heath). When she hadn’t shown up before it begun, he had forced himself to only send two texts and then put his phone away, because Annabeth is the kind of person where if she said jump, Percy wouldn’t even ask how high - he would go to whatever length necessary to make her happy, and he knows she hates nagging. </p><p>Annabeth isn’t known for her punctuality, but she is never this late, especially considering they’ve been apart for four months, and it feels like someone is carving out a part of Percy with every second that passes. When the 30 minute mark finally passes, Percy pulls out his phone and starts frantically texting everyone he can think of. Piper and Jason, crowded together in an armchair to his right, aren’t having any better luck contacting her, and Percy has half a mind to lead a search party down 7th Avenue when Annabeth bursts in the door. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Sally. Did I miss it?” She’s clearly been running, cheeks flushed and hair tangled, moving a million miles a minute to kick off her shoes, place her bag on the counter, hug Sally warmly, and give Paul a kiss on the cheek. Percy can tell something’s off - she’s not meeting his eyes even as she moves around, and her smile falls flat, so he rises to meet her, reaching out to place a hand on her back as not to startle her. </p><p>“Mom? Do you mind if Annabeth and I go out on the fire escape? We’ll be back before the swim announcement, I promise.” Sally nods, holding up her fingers to signal 10 minutes as Percy turns away, reaching for Annabeth’s hand and interlacing their fingers as he leads her out onto the fire escape, ignoring the whistling that follows them from their teammates. “What’s going on?” Annabeth stays silent, leaning against the railing and staring out at the city, her arms crossed tightly in front of her as if to protect herself. </p><p>Percy has never been one for subtlety or tact - he’s much better at getting all up in someone’s face, a fact that has earned him more than a few bruises and enough push-ups to make a drill sergeant tremble. Still, he’s at a loss now, searching for a way to help Annabeth. “Annabeth, please tell me. Did something happen with your dad?” She shakes her head and Percy’s racking his brain for the right thing to say, cursing himself for leaving her present inside before Annabeth pivots and launches herself at him, arms wrapping around his torso. </p><p>It takes a split second for Percy to react, standing stock still before wrapping his arms around her in like, squeezing tightly. He bends his neck to bury his nose in her hair - she may be tanner and leaner than when he saw her last, but she’s still Annabeth, and the familiar scent of freshly-mowed grass and lemons is soothing. He rubs his hands down her back in the best soothing motions he can manage before he realizes she’s shaking, and now he’s truly dumbstruck, trying to figure out how best to help her process whatever’s going on in the next eight minutes. </p><p>“My mom’s not coming to Tokyo,” Annabeth mumbles into Percy’s collarbone, and Percy thinks he mishears her at first for a moment before she tightens her hold on the back of his shirt. </p><p>“What? Annabeth, that’s crazy. She’s always been invested in your track career.” Percy can practically feel his blood pressure rising, and he grinds his teeth together in an attempt to keep himself calm. It makes no sense to him - he’s met Annabeth’s mom only once, and she spent the entire time holding a finger in his face to yell at her assistant in her Bluetooth headset before continuing their conversation. She’s intense, for sure, and definitely not on any list for #1 Mother of the Year, but she and Annabeth have always been able to agree and bond over her track career. Percy’s half as smart as Annabeth, but there’s no equation he can run through his mind to even begin to comprehend this. </p><p>“No. She has some board meeting the first week and an expo in Chicago the second, so she couldn’t possibly get away. She told my dad first because she couldn’t even be asked to give me a phone call.” Annabeth can feel Percy tense against her, all hard lines and anger and pain, and she grips onto him all the much harder, as if she can contain him, like a soldier jumping onto a grenade to contain the blast. She’s hurting, but she can live with this, she told herself the entire subway ride over here. Now, standing here, Percy’s walls entirely down and him completely destructive, she’s not so sure. </p><p>“Annabeth, I’m so sorry.” Percy pulls back slightly, and though Annabeth still won’t look him in the eyes, she can feel herself physically clamming up, her expression slamming closed, as she glances back through the window, sees their teammates in the living room through the window. She lets herself live in the reckless pain and anger for a moment, watch the figures on the TV stretch and distort through the window pane, hate everyone inside for not caring about her pain. Percy reaches out again before she can even react, resting his chin on top of her head, feeling her breath flutter in and out, hot against his collarbone. </p><p>“I thought I could do this and have her be proud of me. Don’t get me wrong, you know, my dad was so happy for me, and I have you and the girls, and the Olympics, but she lied to me and she’s not showing up for me, and fine, you know, she cares that I’m this close to being an Olympian, but that means nothing to me if she’s never going to show up. I trusted her to do better than this, and she let me down. I deserve better than her.” </p><p>She refuses to cry, fingers curling and uncurling, brushing against the soft fabric of Percy’s shirt, an old Goode swim team shirt Percy calls his ‘good luck shirt’ for no plausible reason - Annabeth can’t think of one instant where wearing that shirt had ever brought him good fortune, but she buries herself in, letting her brain relax and focus, flipping through every memory she can grasp onto of Percy wearing the shirt, letting each one slip away through her fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass until she no longer feels like she’s going to fall apart. </p><p>She can’t see much except the fabric of his shirt, bunched up beneath her fingertips and the fire escape behind him, but the collar of the shirt has shifted under her touch, and a sliver of Percy’s skin is on display. Annabeth’s convinced that Percy’s tan-lines are her favorite part of him (ok, definitely not true, but it’s a bonus), because he has a unique talent for getting the weirdest tans. His tan should be deep and uniform from spending most of spring under the beating sun, same as her, but instead there’s a white line circling his neck, stark against the even tan, and Annabeth’s not even entirely sure why it calms her down as much as it does, but she shifts until her nose is buried against the line, and she can actually feel her heartbeat begin to slow. </p><p>It’s a temporary solution, like a band-aid to a bullet hole, but it will do for now, and she manages to untangle herself from Percy enough to see his eyes, staring down at her with eyes full of concern. It has all the makings of some big Hollywood moment, a kiss or romantic confession, and Annabeth’s heart feels like it’s in her throat, but the pain and anger is right behind it, bitter against her tongue, and she feels too unpredictable, as if any wrong move will set her off. Percy’s hands are dangerously close to her own, and Annabeth isn’t sure how she’ll react, but she knows it will be explosive, whoever moves first. </p><p>They stand there for close to a moment, inching slowly closer and closer, until Annabeth is sure this isn’t ending without an Oscar-worthy makeout session, but it’s ruined quickly by Piper banging on the window behind them. Annabeth can’t make out what she’s saying through the thick glass, so she grabs Percy’s hand, strengthened by the feeling of his palm against hers, callused fingertips rubbing against the back of her hand in a soothing, circular motion. </p><p> </p><p>They hear a cacophony of voices as soon as they step in through the window, each rising over each other, competing for space, until one breaks through. </p><p>“Annabeth, Percy, I swear to God, if you don’t get your asses in here in the next two seconds, I will not hesitate to murder you.” It’s Rachel’s voice, unsurprisingly, but she’s nearly cut off by the sound of the TV. </p><p>“Now, for our newest members of the United States Olympic Track and Field Team of 2020. We are pleased to be welcoming four new female recruits, each an incredibly strong runner of their own right, but an even stronger team together.” They stare at the TV with bated breath - Annabeth is sure they could cut the tension in the room with a knife, but the thought comes a second too late; she can’t even process it until she hears what’s next. </p><p>It’s her name first, then Rachel’s, Piper’s, and then Reyna’s, all muffled as if from far away. They’re all paralyzed, frozen for an entire, painstaking moment, before Sally starts yelling. Annabeth sees Piper crying, then Rachel and Reyna hugging, and she feels like she can’t breathe. It feels like moving through gelatin, slow and heavy and painful, but she turns anyway, catching Percy’s reaction as he moves towards her, fast, and chaotic, and uncontrollable. He’s smiling wide than she’s ever seen before, eyes sparkling as he reaches her, arms wrapping around her waist as he spins her around. </p><p>Everything’s still moving in slow motion when the voice comes back on, and all Annabeth can think of is she’s pretty sure she’s still crying, and Sally’s recording. </p><p>“Finally, we have the absolute pleasure of welcoming our United States Olympic Swim and Diving 2020 Team.” It’s Beckendorf first this time, then Jason, then Percy, and finally Frank, and where she and the girls had frozen, the boys don’t even hesitate. </p><p>They collide in the middle of the room, shouting and screaming and jumping in a huddle before Beckendorf manages to wrestle his way out, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call his mom and his girlfriend, who had both had to work and had been unable to attend the party. Annabeth’s eyes follow him for a moment, but then she catches Percy’s movement, making straight for his mom and Paul. </p><p>He hugs them as Sally cries, and Annabeth is sure she’s never seen Paul look so proud, and she’s sure she’s floating as Piper hugs her, until Percy is right back in front of her, pulling her away from Piper with barely an apology, until he’s kissing her, and nothing else matters. He barely pulls away, but Annabeth would know what he was saying even if he was tapping it in morse code. He whispers it anyway. </p><p>“We’re going to the Olympics.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>either i'll see you in like a few days/week </p><p>or it'll be several months</p><p>I'M SORRY</p><p>as always, find me on tumblr @emma-laurennn with all your thoughts, comments, and ideas!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. (to live for) the hope of it all</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>percy and annabeth attend the USOC banquet, and percy finally tells annabeth how he feels (she kind of already knew) but what can i say</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>90% of this chapter took me two minutes but finishing it was like pulling teeth so i'm sorry</p><p>ANYWAY, enjoy our two kids in love</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Paul and Sally give Percy a new suit for the USA Olympic Team banquet, and he spends thirty minutes obsessing over the way it looks in the mirror. His previous USAS event suits had been hand-me-downs, the kind that had stretched over his ‘swimmer’ shoulders, and swallowed his waist. This suit, however, looks and feels expensive, and it’s reflected in the way it fits, molding to Percy’s shoulders, but not tugging when he raises his arms and fitted against his torso, the deep blue of the jacket and white of his shirt stark in its contrast. </span>
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  <span>Sally has to help him with his tie, the same deep blue as his jacket, and there are tears shining in her eyes the entire time, threatening to spill over onto his lapel. Tokyo, the Olympics, its always seemed so far away, but now, Percy’s part of the United States Olympic Team. There’s an envelope on the kitchen counter with a check and a contract to prove it, as well as plane tickets for both Percy, and for the rest of the family only a few days later. </span>
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  <span>“Mom, hey, please don’t cry. If you start crying, I’ll start crying, and then Estelle will cry, and then Paul will cry, and if I do an ESPN interview with red eyes, I’m going to have to go through, like, 50 additional drug tests, and I am already so not looking forward to peeing in a cup.” Sally laughs in response to that, but it’s a wet laugh, and she wipes at her tears with her sleeve as she steps away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s blue candy in your pocket because I know the portions are tiny, and some green Jolly Ranchers for Annabeth, as well.” Percy had wanted to pick up Annabeth so they could arrive together - he’d played it off as if it was for emotional support, but he’d been hoping they’d get to go on a date before Tokyo. There are still so many emotions between them they’ve left untouched; they haven’t even talked about the kiss in front of all of their friends and Percy’s family during the US Team announcement, and Percy doesn’t want to wait two months before the whole Olympic spectacle and they’ve begun to sort through whatever is going to be the new normal. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><span>Unfortunately, nothing is that easy for them - there are a million interviews to do, and the US Olympic Committee has literally rented out the </span><em><span>Plaza Hotel</span></em><span> for all the press conferences they’re holding - the rest of the swim team, including freaking Caeleb Dressel</span> <span>and</span><em><span> Katie Ledecky,</span></em><span> think Percy’s dilemma is hilarious, because they’re all home for a few weeks, and none of them live anywhere near a banquet location. Annabeth, ever the wisest person in the room, had decided it would be better if they just met at the dinner later, as they’d have to split up the minute they arrived anyway. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sally’s still talking about candy when Percy comes out of his daze. “Tell Jason if he wanted anything, he should have asked. He should </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>give his sister a call sometime.” Percy rolls his eyes at this - Thalia’s an archery coach at Stanford, of all places, so Jason’s seen her more in the last six months than they’ve spent together in their whole lives. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, mom. Thank you.” There’s a distant knock on the door that Percy knows is Beckendorf - Jason and Frank live uptown, so they’re going separately, so Percy turns back to his mom to let her adjust his collar one more time before kissing her on the cheek. Leaving this early means even if they walk, they’ll be early, but Beckendorf will give them a lecture about punctuality regardless. Percy gives Paul a fist-bump and Estella a small boop on her nose that makes her giggle before he opens the door, and they’re off. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Percy doesn’t see Annabeth for a full two hours. Dinner’s schedule for 9:00, which Percy’s stomach already disagrees with, but interviews start at 5:00 and stretch on for </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aside from the overly intrusive questions (he’s still a minor, and too many of these women are staring at him like vultures), Brunner hates journalists, and the USOC employee assigned to Percy has so many rules (be vague, focus on the sport, don’t reveal training strategies, talk about the other swimmers, but not about what you’re worried about), so it feels like Percy can only state his name, the events he’s swimming, and whether or not he likes sushi. Fortunately, it doesn’t turn out to be much of an issue, because most of the journalists ask the same questions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so young! When did you start swimming?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I started swimming competitively when I was six. I’ve stuck with Brunner ever since.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you really get along with your teammates? Testosterone and male animosity, am I right?” Percy really wants to punch the male journalist who asks this, whose face seems permanently fixed into a smile, but instead, he just grins and answers as politely as he can. </span>
  <em>
    <span>These boys are like my brothers. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. The rest of the team has been doing this for a little longer, and they were kind of intimidating at first, but they’re honestly the nicest people. I’m really excited to catch up with all of them again, and there’s no tension between us. We all get along really well. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any particular swimmers you’re keeping an eye out for this year?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I think my biggest competition is from home. Aside from my own relay team, Caeleb Dressel has always been a really big inspiration to me. I got to know him at world’s last year, and at training camp in May. Nathan Adrian and I have been swimming against each other for a long time, and his performance at World's was really amazing. And Kristof Milak has a powerful butterfly stroke, but really, I’m just going into the pool and trying my best. This is my first time at the Olympics, and I don’t plan on it being my last. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His answer earns him a slap upside the head from Brunner - Percy sees no reason to keep his cards close to his chest, and he’s become friendly with Dressel. He doesn’t mention Lochte, who can be an absolute dick at times, and Milak makes a point to never speak English around him, but there’s no danger of a Tonya Harding between any of them, so who cares if the world knows who he’s looking at on the pool deck, especially considering their times will speak for themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you most excited for about Tokyo?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve never been to Japan before! I’m really fortunate that I have several close friends competing alongside me, and it’s my first Olympics. I plan on just taking everything in, and enjoying it. I don’t like sushi, though, so hopefully, I’ll discover some other great Japanese cuisine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Percy gives himself a mental pat-on-the-back for that one - Annabeth would be proud of Percy using big words, and all of his answers are incredibly poised. Even Brunner looks like he’s barely hiding a smile, even after Percy’s candor for the last question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are very handsome, Mr. Jackson - in fact, you were trending on Twitter last night after the announcements. There are lots of teenage girls around the world waiting to hear your answer - are you single, or is there some lucky girl who gets to have you as her girlfriend?” It’s barely-veiled as crude gossip, and Percy can see the USOC employee’s eyes bulge from right beyond the reporter’s shoulder, but there’s a mic in his face, and there’s no way they’re going to extricate him cleanly from this in time for the press conference in only a few minutes, so Percy just takes a deep breath, and grins in a way he hopes comes across as genuine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not even 18 yet, so I don’t know if I should be divulging that kind of information. I have a one really special girl in my life, and yeah, I don’t know. We’ll see how things go. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s rushed at best, and Percy cringes at the delivery - but hopefully, it will fend off a thousand girls fighting each other off in his Instagram DMs long enough for him to actually have a conversation with Annabeth </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, it’s his last question for this round of interviews, aside from a few shouted remarks about his suit that he’s saved from answering by the USOC employee who shouts some brand name that is almost definitely not where his suit is from, as she pushes him into a narrow hallway. He’d lost the boys and Brunner during the initial whirlwind of employees and entry-level reporters and something that looked suspiciously like a red carpet, so it’s only the USOC employee (Audrey? Aubrey?) and Percy in the hallway, but she points him in the direction of the conference room, gives a five-minute warning, and then stalks off, typing furiously on her cell.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the freezing air conditioning (Percy can’t even begin to imagine how cold the Plaza must be in winter, considering its almost 100 degrees outside now), Percy’s suddenly overcome by the desire to loosen his tie and shed his jacket. The questions are suffocating, and Percy’s seen millions of videos of his now teammates - these aren’t even half-bad. It doesn’t bode well for the Olympics, because although the Olympic village has strict rules about the press, and training is closed to outsiders, there’s no way Percy’s going to escape the press unscathed. There’s a small hopeful voice in the back of his head that says they’ll care more about the athletics than the athlete, but it’s quickly squashed by a glance down at his phone screen, which is buzzing with more Twitter notifications from people Percy has never met. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels weirdly like a bug under a microscope, squirming as people pick apart every interaction, every word (he’s not trying to flatter himself, it’s not like he’s getting paparazzi shots everywhere he goes, but people care about him now, have things to say about him and Jason and Brunner), and the thought makes Percy shiver uncomfortably, unbuttoning his jacket so he can use it to generate a breeze that feels just slightly less stifling than the stale air in the hallway. He’s contemplating ditching, and facing Brunner’s half-hearted wrath later (on the plane to Tokyo, if he’s lucky enough because Brunner’s almost as excited as the boys) when he’s interrupted by the click of a door and looks up to find Annabeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s wearing a floor-length deep blue dress almost the exact same color as his suit (Percy has a sneaking suspicion his mother coordinated that on purpose), with some sort of sheer, sparkly overlay, secured at her waist by a gold belt, which looks suspiciously like the same gold as an Olympic medal. His panic is mild, curling and uncurling of his fingers and occasional rapid blinking, but Annabeth’s face barely contains her worry - they’re thinking the same thing, he knows, because this feels like so much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>much, but it’s only supposed to ramp up from here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” His voice is the softest he can make it, and Annabeth’s smile matches it as she lifts her head to meet his eyes. There’s panic in the gray of her eyes, but there’s also deep-set exhaustion that Percy knows is reflected in his own. “What’s going on? How are you?” Percy opens his arms, a silent invitation for a hug between them, but Annabeth shakes her head, a minuscule movement but clear as she reaches for his hands, interlacing her fingers with his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay. I would really, really love a hug right now, seaweed brain, but if I start hugging you, not only am I going to smudge my makeup, but all of my willpower will seep right out, and I just need to get through this press conference without mauling one of these reporters, who are very clearly out of their depths with athletes who still aren’t allowed to legally drink. Which is weird, because I’m pretty sure one of the women was wearing an ‘I Heart Katie Ledecky’ shirt, and she was younger than we are. I need to find out her secret.” Annabeth’s tone is light and joking, but the words are heavy - Percy’s already been compared to more athletes than he can count, and while it should be an honor to be the next Michael Phelps, it’s so much pressure. More than that, she’s right - these reporters have no idea what they’re doing, and neither do all the benefactors they’re going to have to schmooze with throughout dinner. They’re kids, but they’re not stupid either, and no reporter seems to be able to find a happy medium. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re lucky enough to be in the same room for the press conference - some higher power seems to be looking out for them, at least, small things making the night just a little bit more bearable. Still, there’s tension between the two of them. They’ve barely even touched since the Olympic announcement a week ago, either too scared or too exposed, instead, stealing glances across the room as if they were normal teenagers with a crush, not elite athletes about to head to the best and worst competition in the world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It feels rushed and fragile, but Percy is tired of waiting. They inch closer and closer, Annabeth’s eyes asking a question, and Percy’s answering back, until they’re only millimeters apart, noses brushing gently, and Rachel is bursting through the conference room door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Rachel and Percy’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>brief relationship in their sophomore year ended on good terms, and they’re best friends now more than anything else (even if it does sometimes make Annabeth want to literally strangle Rachel watching them together - whatever, she’s not jealous), and all she does is grin and roll her eyes at the sight of Annabeth and Percy springing apart. Rachel’s a haze of red hair, freckled limbs, and butterflies that Percy is 90% sure she painted on her dress herself as she rushes around them, hands firm against their backs as she pushes them to the doorway, the bright flash of cameras and scratching of pens the only sensation in their tiny, ephemeral world, until Rachel rests her chin on both Percy and Annabeth’s shoulders and smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Time to face the wolves.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Percy’s not quite sure how they manage it, but the reporters are in love with Annabeth and Percy. It’s mainly because their other teammates defect to them naturally (Beckendorf and Reyna speak as little as possible, where Rachel, Piper, and Jason ramble, and Frank just stammers). It’s not their fault, they’ve had little to no media training, aside from one conference call with yet another USOC employee a few days ago, but Percy and Annabeth just flow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s helped by the fact that they know sign language (albeit, very little), but quick fingerspelling on Annabeth’s part means they can communicate without even speaking. They bounce back and forth on almost every question, and the reporters eat it up when Percy answers one question about Annabeth’s experience beginning track, a story she’s pretty sure he pulled from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Remember the Titans</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Annabeth’s smart, and quick on her feet, which, when paired with Percy’s humor and candor, makes them an excellent team. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They flirt enough to keep their audience of around fifty interested, but they’re subtle enough to play it off. It makes even the most technical questions seem half-way interesting, although there are questions about their advice for younger athletes and balancing athletics with school that Percy almost wishes they had more time to answer. He doesn’t have the background or the education to start any kind of foundation, but he wants to give kids the opportunity Brunner gave him. Aside from the run-of-the-mill questions, there are also questions that seem deliberately phrased to confuse the group of teenagers, but Annabeth and Percy manage to turn them into back-and-forth banter that’s followed by a sprinkling of laughter across the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They miraculously evade almost every question about their personal lives, although Piper and Jason are backed into a question about their relationship that no one, not even the frowning USOC rep hovering just behind the cameras, or Mr. D, turning an interesting shade of purple to Piper’s left, can get them out of. Jason is bright red, and decidedly ruffled as they exit the room, and Piper’s completely exasperated, but they all breathe a collective sigh of relief the minute they step into the dining room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s still a long list of benefactors to talk to, and a few photographers circle the perimeter of the room, but nothing is getting out of this room without extensive screening. It’s enough to let them drop their masks only slightly, Percy holding up his Team USA jacket for Annabeth to admire - they’re supposed to have equipment fittings tomorrow, but Percy has been begging Brunner for literal years to get a vintage Team USA jacket (for the year his dad was supposed to compete) and Brunner finally gave in. There’s no music, no cake, no screaming teenagers, but it feels just enough like their party in the bar for Percy to tip back his head, smile, and breathe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a drunk sort of desperation that haunts Percy throughout the night. He’s seated next to Annabeth, the two of them squished close enough that he could literally whisper everything he wants to say into her ear and no one else would overhear, but there are a hundred people around them, and he can’t talk to her. Instead, he settles for tapping a random pattern into her waist from where his arm is wrapped around her, and she steals Jolly Ranchers from his jacket pocket until her tongue has stained a mixture of blue and green. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are too many speeches, none of which have any humor in them, but they’re expected to laugh along anyway. There are a dozen old ladies who want to know where Percy’s suit is from (he still doesn’t know, and takes special delight in rattling off whatever designer-sounding-name pops into his head). There’s also a plethora of dirty looks from male athletes, who Percy knows desperately want Annabeth’s phone number, but seem to think better once Percy even looks in their direction from over Annabeth’s shoulder, where she’s tucked against him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time midnight rolls around, the desperation has turned into straight agony, burning through Percy’s skin like a brand, pressing into his bones, melting his nerves, fusing his capillaries and veins together, so all he can feel is the dull thrum of his blood through his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Annabeth notices his impatience quickly, rubbing one hand in a quick circle against his back before she stands to make their excuses and goodbyes to the wealthiest in the room, and their coaches. There’s no one left at their table to heckle Percy - Frank and Beckendorf have already left, Piper and Jason snuck away 20 minutes ago, and Reyna and Rachel have pulled up chairs at the side of the room to people watch and speculate about the private going-ons of New York’s wealthiest. There are a few people who are well past tipsy, including Mr. D, that protest their leaving entirely too loudly for the Plaza’s decorum, but surprisingly enough, they make it to the foyer in under five minutes, and then Annabeth loops her arm through Percy’s, and they’re off.  </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The air outside the Plaza Hotel is sticky and warm - the typical beginning notes of a New York summer symphony - but Percy leaves his jacket on regardless, the deep blue blending in with the twilight of the night, so the people walking behind them can’t tell where Annabeth’s dress ends, and Percy’s suit begins. He leads them away from the subway station that would have taken them home, despite Annabeth’s questioning glance; he doesn’t want to have this talk in a subway, or in the back of a cab, so Central Park seems to be their next best bet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stay silent, even as Annabeth’s steps slow when they reach the grass, eventually pausing so she can unstrap the heels, and walk barefoot, her head now reaching Percy’s chin instead of his eyes. When their height disparity got to their point, Percy’s not exactly sure, but it’s never bothered him until now. Now, it feels like he’s missed some part of their journey together, some important step when they began fit like perfect puzzle pieces against one another. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Their joint silence lasts 10 minutes, the exact time it takes to reach the Green just shy of Bethesda Terrace, and for Annabeth to finally crack, the faint glow of lamplight incandescent against the grass, the gurgle of the fountain just slightly louder without all the tourists and college students. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Percy, what are we doing?” Her tone holds only curiosity, no accusations or exasperation, so Percy waits to answer, folding his legs beneath him, and sitting, patting the ground next to him in a silent invitation for her to join. Annabeth raises an eyebrow in response, but she joins him anyway, if only with slight hesitation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re stargazing.” Annabeth snorts in reply, which makes Percy absolutely cackle, and Annabeth shoves him half-heartedly before composing herself long enough to respond, while Percy makes a mental note to record that sound the next time Annabeth makes it and make it his ringtone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s too much light pollution in New York City to see any stars, seaweed brain. Probably in Tokyo, too, before you say anything dumb or cheesy about the stars being the same there.” Percy’s lying down next to her now, limbs stretched out against the chill of the grass, and all he can see of Annabeth is the faint glow of her hair and the delicate slope of her nose. It takes a slight bit of the pressure off his chest - if whatever he says next doesn’t go well (because he didn’t rehearse this speech, and he has a reputation for screwing things up), at least he doesn’t have to see the full weight of her reaction on her face. Annabeth’s always been an excellent liar, but not to Percy. Never to Percy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Percy’s saved from saying anything for another moment, as Annabeth lies down next to him. There’s warmth radiating from her, she’s like a portable space heater, and it should be uncomfortable, considering the blanket of humidity already settling against Percy’s skin, but instead, it just soothes his muscles, his body melting into the ground beneath them, rolling slightly so he can still keep his eyes on her without pulling a muscle in his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabeth’s hand is close enough to take, to hold, but he refrains - for all the delicacy of the moment, Percy barely wants to take too deep a breath lest it shatters into a million tiny fragments. It’s the most mundane they’ve ever done together - not just because they’re Olympians now, and nothing they ever do again will ever truly be normal, but because this holds weight like they’ve finished their race after months and years of waiting and running and swimming, and they’re just waiting with bated breath for the final results. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, it’s still not quite a date - they’ve just come from dinner at the Plaza, and Percy’s held every door like a perfect gentleman (thank you Sally for the years of drilling chivalry into him through Gabe’s own particular brand of abuse), but they’ve also just survived several hours of interviews that have left them feeling as wrung out like a dishrag. It doesn’t feel like a date when the remnants of these public half-facades cling to them like a stubborn perfume, a glitter they’ll forever find in folds of shirts and under jacket lapels. They don’t cling to it. Instead, they just lie there, side by side and heads tilted towards each other, so Percy can just make out the gray of Annabeth’s eyes, she can see the swoop of his eyelashes against his cheek, and through the haze of midnight, they just </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long time, they don’t say anything. Annabeth looks up at the sky and the lights of New York City, and Percy just looks at her. She looks like she’s made of honey and glass, of all things fragile and beautiful, her eyes windows to the lights of all the wisdom the world has ever amassed. It’s midnight in Central Park, and they’re seventeen, but Percy knows for sure that there is nothing else in his life except her and this moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it matters.” It’s not how he’s planning to start, and Percy almost curses himself as Annabeth rolls over, her sleepy gaze trained intently on his face, willing him to continue. Still, the glow of her eyes in the haze of the night urges him on.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The gold. I would love to have one, you know, prove to the world that I’ve done what only a handful of people before me have done.” He has to talk quickly, so Annabeth can’t get a word in edgewise - she’s always been more competitive than him, and the gold is everything to her, and it’s in her face, sleep fading away from her face in favor for the same focus that takes over before every race.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the gold medal, it’s the thing we’ve been training for, but I think I already have my prize. Through all the training, through the bruises, and the tears, and Gabe, and stupid fights with Jason - Tokyo’s a week away, and I don’t care, because I have you. That’s the only prize I’ll ever need. My best friend, my wise girl. My Annabeth. You are my gold medal. I don’t think either of us is ready to hear the second half of this speech yet, but I wanted you to know that you have made all of this worth it. It doesn’t matter if I win or lose, break a record, or don’t even make it through prelims, because you’ll be there when it’s all over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabeth moves faster than Percy can react, pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss, her fingers cold against his cheek. It makes Percy smile, and when Annabeth pulls away, she giggles, tracing the outline of his lips with her finger as if to commit the shape to memory. Their foreheads are tipped together, so Percy can’t see Annabeth’s eyes without going cross-eyed, but he can feel her against him, warm and ethereal, and real. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eloquent, seaweed brain.” She nudges his nose with hers and kisses him again, a sweet honeyed taste of her lips against his, and Percy’s never been happier in his life. There’s Tokyo and the Olympics, and the gold medal after this. It’s midnight, but at that moment, they’re showered in sunlight and stardust. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>to tokyo! sorry, i know this ending is painful to read</p><p>as always, find me on tumblr @emma-laurennn with all your thoughts, comments, and ideas!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. tell me i'm the only (even if you don't mean it)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>we're at the olympics!!! surprise shawty!!!! (i am so sorry) and we meet someone special.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was a long time coming, but considering the way 2021 is going, i'm not going to apologize for this being a 10-day-late new year's gift!!!! here you go anyway!!! enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been 15 minutes since their official tour guide left, and Percy is already lost. He’d left the boys at the house (which is really just a fancy way of saying an apartment complex that’s meant to fit all 250 athletes and alternates of Team USA), where Jason had promptly collapsed on the bed and Beckendorf had gone off in hunt of the smell of empanadas wafting down the corridor. </p><p>Annabeth had texted when they’d landed saying she was finishing up her practice and would meet him at the Village for a late lunch before Percy had training. </p><p>Unfortunately for Percy, this place isn’t as straight-forward to navigate as their tour guide had made it seem, and each building looks exactly the same except for the flag by the front door, meaning he’s wandering around aimlessly in the hopes of finding some break in the high-rises to give him a signal as to where the exit is. </p><p> </p><p>He’s somewhere around the Swedish residence before he finally gives up and sends Annabeth an SOS message with his location and decides to stay put until she finds him, settling on a large rock and focusing on his breathing. </p><p>His chest is tight - it has been since Annabeth left, the distance crushing his lungs, even though it’s only been two days since they’d said goodbye. Their codependency is startling, especially considering, unlike their initial training period a month ago, they’ve been texting the entire time, Annabeth sending a plethora of pictures from the private jet, featuring chairs large enough to fit the entire relay team plus wiggle room, and Olympic-branded toilet paper. </p><p>Still, it’s a miracle they’re getting this time at all - between the two of them, they’ve got a staggering number of trainings, physio sessions, and interviews; and while a few of the interviews are together (including a Buzzfeed puppy interview Percy had geeked out about for over 30 minutes), Coach D and Brunner are giving both Annabeth and Percy incredibly short leashes until their prelims. </p><p>It’s the nature of the Olympic beast, and Percy is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially in the shadow of the Japan National Stadium, but the weight of time apart feels like a ball and chain he can’t escape. He carries it everywhere, even into the pool, dragging him deeper and deeper down, his strokes short and heavy - and yet, Brunner says Percy’s times continue decreasing at an unprecedented rate. He’s finally swimming towards something, chasing a goal, instead of running as fast and as far away as he can from his past. </p><p>He’s already gotten all the way to Tokyo, and yet, Percy can’t quite silence the voice at the back of his mind that whispers in the quiet of the night, if this is the furthest he will ever be able to go. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily, Annabeth has always had a better sense of direction, and it’s only five minutes of waiting and a small existential crisis for Percy until hands fold over his eyes, her familiar laugh met with a responding bloom of light in his chest. From where he’s sitting, he can tip his head back to rest against Annabeth’s stomach, their usual height difference reversed. </p><p>Her eyes sparkle as they meet his, circling him slowly so his head rests in her hands, his arms looped around her waist. It’s clear only two days in Tokyo have already begun to lift the weight of Annabeth’s familial issues off her shoulders, and it brings a matching grin to Percy’s face, pushing himself to his feet so Annabeth tips over his shoulder in an improvised fireman’s carry. </p><p>“Perseus Jackson, if you do not put me down this instant, I will personally call Brunner and make sure you’re swimming laps until you can’t stand.” They must look ridiculous to everyone else - Annabeth squirming the entire time, Percy in his travel outfit glory, practically tripping over every stone until he sets Annabeth down just short of the Village gates. </p><p>He hasn’t really looked at Annabeth since they’ve been reunited - it’s clear she’s come straight from practice, dressed in red, white, and blue Nike from head-to-toe, from the sneakers to the spandex shorts to the windbreaker emblazoned with her name and the winged logo of the USATF team. She looks surprisingly patriotic for someone who’s second-most-played song is Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. </p><p>It’s Annabeth’s face that makes Percy pause - her eyes glitter with amusement as she stares back at him, a smile playing at her lips despite all her best efforts to look mad, one eyebrow raised, hair pulled back from her face in two braids that make her look younger than she is. It pulls the breath right out of him, leaving Percy with the odd feeling as if he’s just been punched in the gut, without the pain that should accompany it. </p><p>He should be upset that it’s an unfamiliar look on her - there’s a voice in the back of his head that’s infuriated they’ve gotten so far in life and in their relationship without Annabeth ever looking this happy - but the larger part of his brain can’t focus on anything but her smile. With a slow glance around to make sure there’s nobody watching or trying to peek through the gates, Percy takes a step forward, taking Annabeth’s hands before leaning in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against hers. </p><p>It should be uncomfortable, Annabeth’s arms wrapped around Percy’s shoulders, pushed up onto her tiptoes, Percy leaning forward so they can meet, but Percy’s body just buzzes with contentment. </p><p>“What was that for?” Annabeth’s voice is soft, and Percy can’t help kissing her again, smiling as he sees her pout in mock petulance before they’re kissing again, a clash of teeth and lips because they’re both grinning, until eventually, Percy pulls away to tell her. </p><p>“I like seeing you happy, Wise Girl. It’s been a while, and you deserve this. You deserve all of this. You know that, right?” Annabeth kisses him after that, long and sweet until they’re both smiling again, even though Percy can feel a few of Annabeth’s tears soak into his shoulder when she hugs him, gripping him for a moment as if to part from him would kill them both. </p><p>Her grip slackens after a moment, though, and even though Percy knows, logically, this is a terrible idea - they’re only a few feet from the gate, and only half an hour ago, there were 30 reporters camped outside in hopes of grabbing a quote or snapping a photo of something even remotely scandalous. Still, Annabeth is warm in his arms, her fingers threaded through the hair curling at the base of his neck, and Percy can’t bring himself to care about anything else. </p><p> </p><p>Twenty minutes later, as Percy sprints across the Olympic campus, the Tatsumi-no-Mori Seaside Park looming in front of him, Percy’s thinking he probably shouldn’t kiss Annabeth again this close to training. </p><p>He’s got his suit on under his clothes - he takes a moment as he hurtles through the front doors to thank whatever gods are up above for convincing Brunner to not make today a jammer-mandatory day; they take two people and a good five minutes to get into, and Percy doesn’t have fifty seconds, let alone five minutes. </p><p>His equipment had also all been shuttled straight to the changing room (he’s doubly lucky the directions to each area of the pool are posted everywhere, and in about twenty languages, only three of which Percy can actually read). The directions point him up a flight of stairs, and Percy pauses for a split second, wondering how much energy he really has, but just the thought of Brunner’s face is enough to give Percy the speed to give Annabeth a run for her money.  </p><p>The stadium is breathtaking this close - they’d gotten a glimpse of it on the bus ride into the Village, but Percy had been squished between Jason and Frank and had only seen a flash of the towering white columns over Beckendorf’s shoulder. It reminds Percy of the Parthenon in Athens, the city where Percy had won his first international swim championship. </p><p>Now, as Percy dashes through a pair of doors and sprints down a hallway made of glass, he wishes he’d had more time to take it in - like the entire campus, the building is a feat of modern architecture, mixing the old Grecian style with a modern angular shape, plaster and glass, and steel, all glinting as the sun reflects off the water. </p><p>All the light almost blinds him as he slides around a corner, sneakers skidding on the marble floors as he struggles to gain his footing and collides with the locker room door, yanking his t-shirt over his head. He’s moving at half-speed now, sluggish and distracted as he lets his mind wander for a moment, thinking about Annabeth’s face when she finally takes in the full glory of this place after training tonight. She’s the only reason he knows anything about architecture and knowing he’ll miss her reaction, the dream-like trance, the softness by her mouth, is a blow. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily for Percy, he slams straight into Beckendorf and Frank as he bursts out of the locker room, stretching his cap over his hair, regretting the dry-cap almost immediately when the edges cover his skin. They’re standing by the edge of the deck, the smooth expanse of water just visible between them. It’s eerily quiet, but Percy doesn’t have time to ponder the consequences of it. </p><p>“Dude, you look ridiculous,” Jason whispers from somewhere next to them - before Percy can even disentangle himself enough from Beckendorf and Frank and turn to locate his other teammate, another voice cuts through the air, deep and thoroughly unimpressed. </p><p>“Gentlemen, I want 2000 in the next 10 minutes or I will have you swimming laps until you’re as old and jaded as I am.” Brunner’s face is entirely blank, his arms crossed over his jacket - today, a bright orange with a flying horse emblazoned on the back. Percy has really got to take this man shopping one day. He seems impervious to everyone’s protests, even as Percy finds his voice. </p><p>“Brunner, we’re on time. Hell, I’m on time. Early, even.” Percy knows it’s a weak excuse, but as he risks a glance to the clock on his left, he finds it’s the truth - there are two minutes until 1:30 when their training is scheduled to begin, and their tapering began three weeks ago. Today’s not supposed to be this intense. </p><p>“Yes, Mr. Jackson, for once that is true. Still, I find I truly dislike excuses. We’ve got a power rack to hook you up to, and drills to swim. After this, Mr. Grace and Mr. Zhang have an appointment with our physiotherapist, and you, Mr. Jackson, have a date with the weight room. So, let’s move, gentlemen. We have work to do.”</p><p> </p><p>Training isn’t as bad as Percy had expected, although their physiotherapist seems particularly vindictive, digging into Percy’s hips with long, pain-inducing fingers. Brunner is busy working on shaving down milliseconds on Jason’s turn for his 100 when Percy’s in the weight room, so there’s no extra work to do, and he doesn’t even get yelled at when he and Beckendorf pretend the weight bars are jousting sticks and go at each other for a few minutes. </p><p>It’s blissful until training is over, and they’re hauling themselves out of the pool, Percy yanking the cap off his head with an exaggerated shake of his hair like a dog. Brunner, standing a few paces in front of a few other Olympic swimmers, beckons him over with a short nod, and Percy can feel Jason smirking behind him, but goes anyway. The sooner they get this over with, the better. </p><p>“Perseus. I received an interesting text from Norimasa Hirai today. You’ve met him before - he’s the head coach for the Japanese swim team. He was in a meeting today, and he received a text from one of his representatives in the Village. A photo, of sorts. He was kind enough to forward it my way. Would you like to know what this photo was of?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Brunner’s tone is too soft, too calm, and all Percy can see is Caeleb Dressel and Olivia Smoliga leaning against the wall behind Brunner, making kissy faces at Percy. They know about his relationship with Annabeth, and if he’s being realistic, they probably just ran into her on their way into training, but every alarm bell in Percy’s brain is screaming. They’d been careful, hadn’t they?</p><p>“It was of you and my goddaughter, Mr. Jackson. While I will spare us both the embarrassment of having to relive exactly what it was you two were doing, I would like to let you know that Coach Hirai has personally ensured that all remaining photos of your conversation have been deleted. He has also left a long message with the Japanese Olympic Committee regarding athletic privacy and tightening rules regarding social media and what can be shared outside of the Village. With that being said, I leave you with two things. First, before you depart for what will most likely be a very entertaining team dinner, I would like 100 push-ups.” Percy’s ears are ringing, and his field of vision has narrowed only to Brunner, who, despite the stern look on his face, softens for a moment, seemingly to mull over his next words. </p><p>“Second, be careful, Mr. Jackson. Not just for her sake, but for yours.” </p><p> </p><p>Percy’s in a complete daze by the time he manages to stumble out of the locker room - he’d seen his team exchange worried glances, but they’d left it as it was, and Jason had even attempted a weak joke about Percy and push-ups that had elicited a half-hearted chuckle from the boys by their lockers. </p><p>The sun is lower in the sky when they walk out the main doors - on the other side of the plaza in front of the stadium, Percy can see the girls silhouetted against the glare, Piper already raising an arm in greeting towards them. Percy is two steps behind the boys and moving glacially, but even from here, he can see Annabeth’s smile falter, concern painting her features. Percy doesn’t even have time to properly turn, just a blur at the edge of his vision. </p><p>It’s at that moment Percy goes down, hard. </p><p> </p><p>At the moment between him hitting the ground and being able to breathe, Percy is sure that he’s dead and his Olympic career is over before it’s truly begun. The moment after that, however, he can smell the cinnamon and vanilla, and then, the girl who’d barrelled into him comes into view, braid swinging in front of his face, a massive smile across her face. </p><p>It’s a familiar face, and Percy’s glad to see it. He’d met Calypso at training in San Diego, and they’d bonded quickly - they’re from different backgrounds, but Calypso’s just as distant from her father as Percy is to his, and having someone to talk to when Annabeth was thousands of miles away had felt like someone had thrown him a liferaft. He’d be stupid not to climb aboard. </p><p>Percy manages to sit up slightly, propping himself up so he doesn’t hit his head against Calypso’s, who is still grinning, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the fact that Percy’s friends now crowd around them, looking entirely terrified. </p><p>“Oof. Ok. Team, this is Calypso. Cali, this is Rachel, Reyna, Piper, and Annabeth, and I’m sure you remember the boys. Calypso is on the diving team. We trained together in San Diego.” He’s pretty sure his head is still spinning, overwhelmed with the news of both Calypso and Annabeth, and while, logically, he’d known the two would meet at some point, it’s still like watching an eerily realistic dream (nightmare?) as Calypso stands, holding out her arms to hug Annabeth. </p><p>“It is such a pleasure to meet you. Percy told me so much about you, but he sold you short.” Annabeth looks like she doesn’t know which way is up, and Percy has never been more grateful for Rachel, who swoops in with an easy smile, although her eyes are wide and she shoots him a ‘we need to talk’ look from over Calypso’s shoulder. </p><p>“You should come downtown with us! Tell me more about diving. I’ve always been obsessed with Tom…” Rachel’s voice fades away, and Percy feels his world come back into focus as Jason pulls him to his feet. </p><p>“We’re going to leave you two for three minutes, and after that, we’re going to come back and hope you haven’t been murdered.” It’s Piper’s voice, but Percy is still fixed on Annabeth’s face, which is eerily calm. </p><p>“I didn’t know you knew her.” Again, eerily calm. </p><p>“We met at camp. She’s nice, and we’re friends, but that’s it. I didn’t mention it because it’s nothing.” The words, ‘I love you, I won’t hurt you,’ are stuck in his throat, but Percy swallows them back down - he knows Annabeth too well, knows what will make her bolt, and this is a recipe for exactly that, so instead, he forces his hackles down, forces down the need to defend and protect, and soothes instead, reaching for Annabeth’s hands, and then pulling her closer, brushing one hand down the long braid that extends down her back until he’s cradling her again, like that day in the bar. </p><p>It’s alarmingly exposed, the road only a few hundred feet away, and Brunner’s warning is loud in Percy’s ears, but he can feel Annabeth’s hands braced against his chest, tension in her arms as if deciding whether or not to push him away, and he knows he can’t pull away either. This is a waiting game, and he won’t be the first one to blink. </p><p>After a minute, perhaps more, the tension in Annabeth’s arms melts away, and her hands fall to her sides. She doesn’t hug him back. Percy doesn’t push his luck. “I need to tell you two things,” he whispers, and he can feel Annabeth nod into his shoulder, moving so her head is buried in his neck. </p><p>“I need to apologize. For Calypso - I know, I said it’s nothing, and it is nothing more than friendship, but I owed you the truth, and I don’t want to betray your trust, ever. So, I’m sorry.” </p><p>Annabeth pulls back at that, and Percy braces for the fight. It doesn’t come. She shrugs instead, tilting her head like she’s trying to solve a complicated problem in her head and she’s stuck. </p><p>“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, Percy. That’s not to say that I’m mad, because I’m not, exactly, but I do need you to tell me these things. Honesty matters to me. I forgive you, but I need us to be honest with each other moving forwards.” </p><p>Percy nods without hesitation, and Annabeth moves forward again, brushing a kiss against his jaw and settling back into his arms. </p><p>“The second thing is that we were photographed by the gates this morning. The Japanese swim coach was contacted with the photo, and he handled it as a favor to Brunner, but I think we need to decide how to move forwards for the rest of the Games. If that’s behaving as we are and saying ‘I don’t care’ to the photographers and ESPN, or being more careful with our interactions, so be it, but I think that’s a decision we need to make together.” Percy can feel Annabeth’s heart begin to jackhammer against him, a rapid fear that Percy knows reflects in his face as well. </p><p>It’s entirely unfair, and if Percy had been anyone else, had come from anywhere else, hadn’t fought as hard as he had to get here, he would have dug in his heels and fought back. Still, he knows exactly how much they’ve both sacrificed to get here. This isn’t the kind of thing he’s willing to jeopardize now, and while photos won’t ruin either of them, neither of them are in a position to fight back in case somebody tries to use it against them. </p><p>More than that, Percy doesn’t want to lose Annabeth, and already, he can feel her fighting not to run away, to stay and fight with him. They’ve both experienced more loss in a few years than most people will in multiple lifetimes, and Percy’s not sure either of them will survive the loss of the other.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>um...hi calypso </p><p>I HOPE YOU LIKED IT I'M SORRY</p><p>and uh......two more chapters left????</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ahaha</p><p>just wait for the next chapter</p><p>hopefully coming soon</p><p>because i posted this in an effort to motivate myself</p><p>but we'll see</p><p>as always, find me on tumblr @emma-laurennn with all your thoughts, comments, and ideas!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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